Chapter 8 - THE ROSARY
Julian gagged, his face turning a terrifying shade of purple. He clawed weakly at Gabriel’s forearm, but the mafia boss was immovable.
“I’ll tell you!” Julian wheezed, his eyes bulging. “I’ll tell you, just let me breathe!”
Gabriel eased the pressure by a fraction of an inch.
“The abandoned warehouse on 18th Street,” Julian gasped, coughing violently. “The old textile mill. I left two men with him. They’re supposed to wait for my call.”
Gabriel didn't release him. His gray eyes were cold, assessing the truth of the statement.
“If you’re lying to me, Julian,” Gabriel whispered, “I will find you, and I will make what Russo went through look like a vacation.”
Gabriel released his grip. Julian collapsed onto the wet pavement, gasping for air, clutching his bruised throat.
Gabriel turned to Anna.
“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing her hand.
They ran back to the main street, where Gabriel had parked a sleek, unmarked black sedan he had requisitioned from one of his loyal men.
The drive to 18th Street was a blur of neon lights and heavy rain. Anna sat in the passenger seat, clutching the photograph of her father, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
Gabriel drove with terrifying precision, his jaw locked tight. He didn't speak until they pulled up a block away from the abandoned textile mill.
The building was massive, a decaying brick monolith looming against the night sky. The windows were boarded up, but a faint sliver of light escaped from a side door.
Gabriel cut the engine. He pulled a spare magazine from his pocket and reloaded his pistol.
“Stay in the car,” Gabriel ordered, looking at Anna.
“No,” Anna said immediately, her voice fierce. “That’s my father in there. I’m not waiting in the car while you risk your life for my family.”
Gabriel looked at her. The waitressing uniform was ruined, covered in dust and blood, but the woman wearing it was stronger than any soldier he had ever commanded.
He didn't argue. He reached into the backseat, pulled out a heavy tactical vest, and handed it to her.
“Put this on,” he said softly. “And stay behind me.”
They moved silently through the rain, approaching the side door of the warehouse. Gabriel tested the handle. It was locked.
He took a step back, raised his foot, and kicked the heavy metal door directly on the lock. The deadbolt splintered, and the door flew open.
They stepped into the cavernous, dimly lit warehouse.
Sitting in the center of the room, tied to a wooden chair, was Anna’s father. He looked frail, confused, and terrified, staring blankly at the two armed men standing beside him.
The men spun around, raising their weapons at the sound of the door crashing open.
Gabriel didn't hesitate. He moved with lethal, terrifying speed.
He fired twice before the men could even aim. Both rounds found their marks, dropping the guards instantly.
Silence fell over the warehouse, broken only by the sound of rain drumming against the metal roof.
“Dad!” Anna screamed, dropping the tactical vest and sprinting across the concrete floor.
She fell to her knees beside his chair, frantically untying the heavy ropes binding his wrists.
Her father looked down at her, his cloudy eyes widening in recognition.
“Anna, bean,” he whispered, using his childhood nickname for her. “Why are you crying? Did you forget your coat again?”
Anna sobbed, burying her face in his chest. “No, Dad. I’m okay. I’m right here. You’re safe now.”
Gabriel walked over, keeping his weapon raised, scanning the shadows of the warehouse. When he was certain it was clear, he lowered the gun and knelt beside them.
He gently checked her father’s arms for any injuries, his touch surprisingly tender.
“He’s unharmed,” Gabriel said softly, looking at Anna.
Anna looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. The overwhelming relief broke the last of her adrenaline, leaving her exhausted and incredibly grateful.
“Thank you,” Anna whispered, her voice cracking. “Thank you for saving him.”
Gabriel didn't say anything. He reached out and gently wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. The intimacy of the gesture, in the middle of a blood-soaked warehouse, made Anna’s breath catch.
But the quiet moment was shattered by the sound of a slow, echoing clap coming from the shadows near the back of the warehouse.
Gabriel stood up instantly, raising his gun.
A figure stepped out of the darkness, illuminated by the single overhead bulb.
It was Vittorio Moretti.
He was holding a heavy, silver-tipped cane, his expression a mask of arrogant amusement.
“Bravo, Gabriel,” Vittorio said smoothly. “A very touching family reunion.”
Gabriel stepped in front of Anna and her father, shielding them with his body.
“It’s over, old man,” Gabriel said, his voice cold and absolute. “Julian confessed. Your men are dead. The Commission knows you’re alive and that you tried to bomb a hotel full of their allies. You have nowhere left to run.”
Vittorio chuckled, leaning heavily on his cane.
“You think I came here to run, son?” Vittorio asked. “I came here to finish what I started.”
Vittorio raised his cane, twisting the ornate silver handle.
The Reversal hit with terrifying speed.
The handle didn't unsheath a blade. It pulled a pin.
Vittorio wasn't holding a cane. He was holding a dead man’s switch, wired directly to a vest of explosives strapped beneath his tailored suit.
“If I let go of this handle, Gabriel,” Vittorio smiled, a mad, desperate gleam in his eyes, “this entire warehouse goes up in flames. Along with you, the waitress, and her pathetic father.”
Anna’s blood ran cold.
Vittorio had cornered them. He was willing to die to ensure Gabriel didn't inherit the empire.
“Let them go, Vittorio,” Gabriel demanded, his voice steady despite the terror gripping the room. “You want me. Let the innocents walk out that door, and I’ll stay here with you.”
“No!” Anna cried, grabbing Gabriel’s arm.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, son,” Vittorio sighed. “They know too much. But I am willing to offer a compromise.”
Vittorio reached into his pocket with his free hand. He pulled out a small, delicate wooden rosary.
He tossed it onto the concrete floor at Gabriel’s feet.
“Your mother’s rosary,” Vittorio said softly. “She begged me to spare you, you know. Right before she died.”
Gabriel stared at the rosary, his gray eyes widening in horror as the truth finally clicked into place.
“You killed her,” Gabriel whispered, his voice trembling with a rage deeper than anything Anna had ever seen.
“She was weak, Gabriel,” Vittorio sneered. “Just like you.”
Vittorio’s grip on the cane handle began to loosen.
“Say goodbye, son.”
Gabriel didn't shoot Vittorio.
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He didn't try to disarm him.
Gabriel turned, grabbed Anna and her father, and threw all of his weight against them, driving them backward through the weak, rotted wood of the warehouse’s rear loading doors, just as a deafening explosion ripped through the building.
